FIRST SPIRIT: On a battle-trumpet's blast I fled hither, fast, fast, fast, _695 'Mid the darkness upward cast. From the dust of creeds outworn, From the tyrant's banner torn, Gathering 'round me, onward borne, There was mingled many a cry-- _700 Freedom! Hope! Death! Victory! Till they faded through the sky; And one sound, above, around, One sound beneath, around, above, Was moving; 'twas the soul of Love; _705 'Twas the hope, the prophecy, Which begins and ends in thee. SECOND SPIRIT: A rainbow's arch stood on the sea, Which rocked beneath, immovably; And the triumphant storm did flee, _710 Like a conqueror, swift and proud, Between, with many a captive cloud, A shapeless, dark and rapid crowd, Each by lightning riven in half: I heard the thunder hoarsely laugh: _715 Mighty fleets were strewn like chaff And spread beneath a hell of death O'er the white waters. I alit On a great ship lightning-split, And speeded hither on the sigh _720 Of one who gave an enemy His plank, then plunged aside to die. THIRD SPIRIT: I sate beside a sage's bed, And the lamp was burning red Near the book where he had fed, _725 When a Dream with plumes of flame, To his pillow hovering came, And I knew it was the same Which had kindled long ago Pity, eloquence, and woe; _730 And the world awhile below Wore the shade, its lustre made. It has borne me here as fleet As Desire's lightning feet: I must ride it back ere morrow, _735 Or the sage will wake in sorrow. FOURTH SPIRIT: On a poet's lips I slept Dreaming like a love-adept In the sound his breathing kept; Nor seeks nor finds he mortal blisses, _740 But feeds on the aereal kisses Of shapes that haunt thought's wildernesses. He will watch from dawn to gloom The lake-reflected sun illume The yellow bees in the ivy-bloom, _745 Nor heed nor see, what things they be; But from these create he can Forms more real than living man, Nurslings of immortality! One of these awakened me, _750 And I sped to succour thee. IONE: Behold'st thou not two shapes from the east and west Come, as two doves to one beloved nest, Twin nurslings of the all-sustaining air On swift still wings glide down the atmosphere? _755 And, hark! their sweet sad voices! 'tis despair Mingled with love and then dissolved in sound. PANTHEA: Canst thou speak, sister? all my words are drowned. IONE: Their beauty gives me voice. See how they float On their sustaining wings of skiey grain, _760 Orange and azure deepening into gold: Their soft smiles light the air like a star's fire.